


the best thing in the world (except for cough drops)

by oh-how-charming (twofourteen)



Series: the best thing in the world (except for cough drops) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Human, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Female Stiles Stilinski, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twofourteen/pseuds/oh-how-charming
Summary: “Well. That’s Stiles. You two haven’t met have you?”“Uh. No. She’s -”“Something… Yeah, she usually wears pants when she’s meeting new people.”Derek huffs out a laugh, “Usually?”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: the best thing in the world (except for cough drops) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738996
Comments: 11
Kudos: 329





	1. introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a part of fandom for over 20 years, and very rarely find myself confident enough to produce any works like this. Blame it on a global pandemic, depression, ADHD and an uncontrollable urge for a never ending supply of female Stiles Stilinski. 
> 
> The first chapter is a bit of character set up and a bit of an ode to the Sheriff being the best dad.  
> The second chapter is just a bunch of scenes. There's no actual plot, and they aren't really in any order. Just whatever came to my mind.
> 
> Not beta'ed or anything, as it was just a brain dump of scene ideas.
> 
> Title from -- "True love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops." - William Goldman (The Princess Bride)

“It’s not that I hate you Scott, it’s just that I want to kill you dead. With my mind.” Stiles put her hand up to stop him from interrupting her, “If I have to listen to another rotation of fighting and fucking between you two, I am literally going to start something on fire and throw it at you. I have so. much. to. do. And? No time to do it if I am distracted by you two squealing like stuck pigs.”

At least Scott looked a little ashamed at his antics, while Stiles stuffed enough changes of sweatpants into her bag. She grabbed a shirt off the floor, smelled it and made a face before she chucked it towards the general direction of the laundry hamper. Well, at least on the same side of the room as the laundry hamper. 

“M’sorry. We just get a little over emotional.”

“I know sweetie, you’ve always gotten a little crazy when titties are involved.”

Scott guffaws and pushes her in the general direction she was walking, towards the bathroom, to grab her Adderall and toothbrush.

“That was once! Puberty was dangerous for all of us, okay?”

She balanced her duffle bag, messenger bag and backpack stuff full of stuff for school while she padded her pockets making sure she had her keys and phone. “I will be back in a week. Feed the cat. Water the plants. Don’t break any of my precious second hand store furniture with your weird PornHub-esque copy cat sex moves. That table was a steal!” She fist bumped Scott like they weren’t in their mid-twenties and college educated. “Love you Scottie, call me only if you burn the place down with your weird sex candles or lose a limb. Oh! Or if you die, okay?” She smashed his face against her lips with a loud smack, leaving behind a bit of sticky residue from her lip balm. (She still used Lip Smackers that tasted like Dr. Pepper and didn’t care.)

\--

John had been expecting her, so he made sure to have a small pile of her favorite study essentials waiting for her (A bunch of granola flavored stuff that he swore all tasted like cardboard, her favorite flavor of Gatorade and Cheetos with chopsticks so there were no cheese dust issues on her books {“Ugh _dad_ , the resale value on these is already shit. Why would I ruin that with tears _and_ Cheeto dust?”}). And a new pack of highlighters, because she loved office supplies (Just like her mom, he thought fondly) and shiny, neon things (Just like a squirrel). Her calls about throwing sharp things at Scott and dropping out of her Master’s program so close to the end and wanting to adopt seventeen homeless dogs had been coming at a higher frequency - both in the sheer number and decibel of her voice.

He heard the keys jingle in the door as she all but flopped in, managing to flail over absolutely nothing. “Pops, are you home?”

“In the kitchen.”

“I hope you’re eating something healthy, like an egg white omelette and if you are being a horrible father, could you cover that shit up before I get in there.” John rolled his eyes as his _adult daughter_ walked into the kitchen and side eyed him as he tossed his napkin over the bacon left on his plate. 

“It’s organic?”

“I have too much to do to lecture you on your food choices - so you are getting a free pass. I am going to cocoon myself up there,” She made a motion to the general direction of her old room, “And will only be removed if the house is on fire and _at least_ three firefighters have to perform CPR on my lifeless body. Make sure they save my research too. Even if I am dead, I will get published.”

John let out a laugh. Somehow Stiles was never not a hurricane; energy everywhere, looking for an outlet. 

“I’ve already got your supplies up there.” He took the hug she offered and the mumbled, ‘Thank you… love you daddio’ against his temple. “If you want to emerge on Sunday, I am having some of the guys over for football and manly barbeque.”

“Mmmm. Charred meat, my favorite.” Stiles grabbed a couple of apples from the basket on the table, and dragged her stuff up the stairs to her room. John huffed a laugh into his coffee cup at the whoop from upstairs, “New highlighters and purple Gatorade? Fuck yes! Thank you pops!”

\--

John woke up at 3:00am, to the sounds of Stiles running on the treadmill in the corner of the living room that she got him a few years ago. (“Dad, you need to use it for it to be useful.” “I _do_ use it.” “...to hang clothes off of!”) 

When he wakes up for good at 6:00am, there are bright pink sticky notes, scrawled with her hurried script, on all the things he is not allowed to eat for breakfast. The dishes that were in the sink last night when he went to bed are gone. And there appears to be a fresh vase of flowers on his kitchen table. 

\--

 **Stiles** : sos sos daddd I am out of pink highlighters and running low on cheetos. can i set a small fire to attract at least one fireman? will they bring me cheetos???

John gets the message on his flip phone (“Oh my _god_ dad. It’s like the 21st century now. Will you come and join us?”) while pushing the shopping cart down the snack aisle. He throws an extra bag of Cheetos in the cart, and wonders where you find highlighters in the grocery story. Probably not next to the steak. Or curly fries.

\--

Derek always comes a little early to the barbeques, he likes feeling useful so he wipes down tables, cuts up some veggies, forms some burgers from the ground chuck. He hears a few more guys coming in thru the front door, nodding to them as they walk thru the kitchen to the backyard. “Hale, how are you man?” Not waiting for an answer, Robbins hollers at John, “Is that Stiles’ Jeep out front? Where is our girl?”

“She’s avoiding dramatic roommates and attempting to finish up some stuff for school. Probably won’t see her today - she’s deep in it.”

Robbins chuckles, “Our little brainiac, that’s our girl.” He grabs a beer, knocks the top off on the edge of the table and takes a pull, “She’s almost done with her program, huh?”

“Yeah, just about.” John takes a long pause, “She would have been so proud of Stiles.” Derek thinks that the She is implied. He’s new to the job, but has seen pictures, heard snippets from conversations.

Robbins heaves a heavy sigh, “She definitely would have been.” Another heavy breath, “Now who feels like losing $50? Hale you a betting man?”

\--

John and Derek were both in the kitchen, grabbing some supplies to get the grilling started. He hears someone walking down the stairs and glances behind him and, well.

“Jesu _\- Stiles_. Pants?”

“Mornin’ daddio.” Derek eyebrows do a thing, because it’s nearly 4:00 in the afternoon. Stiles just ignores John’s exasperation as she greets Derek as well, “Mornin hottie.” She nods at him, winks like they have known each other for more than three seconds and both of them are wearing pants. She is standing in front of the fridge, grabbing a gallon of milk and taking a big gulp out of it, before any of them have time to react. She’s standing there, smiling as she pulls up the shirt she is wearing, covering a burp and wiping her mouth. “Daddio, I am totally in the zone and I _need_ you to save me a burger” She burps again, laughing a little, “Wow, that was not lady like at all. I suck at that whole feminine thing, huh?” And basically cutting her own self off she laughs, “That’s what she said, huh? Sucking? Huh?” She elbows Derek, waggling her eyebrows at her own dumb joke. She starts the conversation again, “And a hot dog. Oh! If Bubba comes with his deviled eggs, I need at least six of them saved for me.” She’s looking at Derek now, “And if Mel brings that shitty potato salad with _raisins_ , just chuck it over the fence but not next door they have a cute little shih-tzu who would probably keel over and die.” She looks back over at John. “Seriously. Six deviled eggs or I am throwing all your meat away and replacing it with vegan chicken nuggets.” She leans past them, raising her voice to get the attention of the men out back, “Hi guys! Love you to pieces but I am in the zone. Pray for me and don’t let daddio eat too much red meat!” A chorus of variations of “Hey Stiles!” and “Yes m’am!” follow her hello. She looks back at John, “Seriously. Deviled eggs or I will make you go to hot yoga.”

She swipes the box of Lara bars off the table that John forgot to give her in the last food drop, a few apples, trying to balance it all as she walks away. Derek tilts his head and lets out a laugh as she attempts to do something on her phone and get rid of wedgie all while shuffling everything in her arms and trying not to drop anything. He’s pretty sure he sees a heart tattoo on her ass. And what looks suspiciously like a Cheeto in her hair. 

“Well. That’s Stiles. You two haven’t met have you?”

“Uh. No. She’s -”

“Something… Yeah, she usually wears pants when she’s meeting new people.”

Derek huffs out a laugh, “Usually?”

\--

Derek “accidentally” drops the bowl of potato salad after seeing it littered with raisins. He also pilfers for a tupperware container from the hodge podge of containers and lids (“Dad. You need to invest in actual Tupperware. This is a Cool Whip container from… 1994. Let go already.”) saving a few extra deviled eggs for Stiles. He may label them as vegan chicken nuggets. 

During the game, he hears a few explosions of varying emotions upstairs.

“What does that ev - who in the shit headed brain dead - how did this misogynistic garbage pile get a degree?”

“Oh fuck me sideways, I am a genius. Eu-fucking-reka!”

“...just take me Odin, god of whatever you are. Or your hot son. I sacrifice myse - Oh. There’s that article.”

No one else seemed to be reacting to her random outbursts - they either didn’t hear them or they were just that used to them by now.

Hale lost $50 on the game, but he wasn’t ever mad about it.

\--

Several hours later, after the last of the guys had headed out, Stiles re-emerged. She looked like she had showered at some point, as there was a lot less Cheeto in her hair and she was wearing pants. (Clean pants even.) Derek was just helping John with the last of the clean up.

“Hale, you don’t- I can wash my own dishes you know.”

“It’s all good sir, I’d feel rude making a mess and then just leaving it for you.”

Stiles made a noise of disdain behind them, “Those dishes would still be in the sick the next time I came around here, don’t even try that one Daddio”

John huffed as he dried off the last of the pans and slid it back it’s spot in the cupboard. “You know kid, I do function fairly well without you. I haven’t set the house on fire _once_ since you moved out.”

“This guy…” She makes a flailing gesture at John, then glances over at Derek. “So, Hottie -” “...jesus Stiles, decorum.” “- what’s your story? Did you destroy the potato salad? Were there raisins? Did my dad only have his allowed red meat portion? Are your parents actual Greek gods or is this look -” She waves her hands, encompassing Derek as a whole, “just... a freak genetic miracle?”

Derek barks out a laugh, while John hides his face in his hands mumbling about children with freak genetic mutations.


	2. random scenes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, these scenes are in no particular order and I don't have enough non-ADHD brain to flesh them out.

It wasn’t like Stiles didn’t know how to buy sexy lingerie. It’s just… it wasn’t comfortable, it was expensive, and just so fragile. And there were just certain things in a girls life that were made easier when the undies she ruined when her period started three days early didn’t cost $45 a pair. So, she stuck to Target undies, thank you very much. Some of them even had a little lace on them. She wasn’t really about the wrapping paper - more the presents underneath. 

But, she wasn’t a  _ monster _ . She liked to surprise Derek every once and awhile. Rarely. Okay, it was usually just his birthday and maybe Arbor Day. (What? Derek really liked nature.) She wasn’t quite sure what holiday she would tell Derek she was celebrating with this, but it was fun to see that look on his face, just for her. Or it would be a fun look, and not so tragic if she could get these straps to just… cooperate. 

She heard him making his way up the stairs and quickly hid herself behind the bedroom door, only her head visible. “Stop right there, don’t come any further.”

“...did you bleach my uniform again?”   


“Did I ble - what?  _ No _ ! I - uh… I’m wrapping your Christmas presents, and I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Stiles… it’s June.”

“I’m a planner-aheader, now shoo, go away. And uh… start stretching.” She waggled her eyebrows and disappeared as the door clicked shut. “Do some lunges! Maybe down a Gatorade or six.”

Derek made his way back down the stairs, and well… he wasn’t one to risk muscle injury after strenuous activity, so he did a few reps of his favorite stretches, maybe some sit ups. 

Stiles was snapping straps against her skin, trying to get each adjusted so it would sit right, but she must have ordered a size too small or something because every time she adjusted one strap, another somehow got too tight or too loose and she was getting flustered. She didn’t expect it to feel dreamy and comfortable, but she was hoping it was going to feel less like she was being squeezed by invisible hands everywhere. She looked down at the delicate packaging it had come in and blew the hair out of her face as she looked at the smiling model on the page. “Yeah, you probably had seven interns strapping you into this thing. I am just  _ one _ person. And this is ridiculous.” She flailed a little as she pulled the straps away from her body and got her leg tangled and tripped a little. (Derek looked up at the ceiling as he heard furniture rattle.) 

She balled up the offending garment in her hand, straps flopping everywhere, and stomped down the stairs. Derek choked a little on his Gatorade, because Stiles wasn’t wearing pants again. She wasn’t wearing anything but a sad pout. “This is all your fault. I was trying to be sexy and this strappy bastard was all -” She flailed her arms, the straps nearly whacking her in the face. “- and now I don’t have a present for you to unwrap. And on World Juggling Day no less!” 

By now, she had moved in front of him as he sat on the couch, standing between his spread legs. “And you just  _ know _ how much I love World Juggling Day. What a disappointment.” He smiled and she pushed against his shoulder. His hands landed on the outside of her knees, gliding up her body as he spoke the next words, “What are we going to do to celebrate all the world’s jugglers now?” He moved a thumb over to flick at her nipple as he drew out the last words.

She moved her hands to the hairs at the nape of his neck and tugged just a little. “I mean, did you do the suggested stretching exercises?”

He breathed out a laugh, nipping at the wrist resting near his shoulder. “Twice.”

“Ohh - extra limber glutes mean good things for me.” She slid into his lap, stealing the last gulp of Gatorade he had in the bottle between his legs. She threw the tangled ball of straps and the empty bottle behind her. She moved to kiss behind his ear, quietly whispering, “That sexy nonchalance didn’t break anything or hit any precious baby animals did it?”

“You are  _ ridiculous _ .” 

“And naked. What’re you going to  _ do _ with me?” She grinned, eyes bright, as she pushed her body closer to him.

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

“I really do hope none of them  _ actually _ involve juggling.” Their laughter echoed off the walls. Quickly followed by lots of other noises.

\--

Derek didn’t hate his job. Obviously, he didn’t - or he wouldn’t be doing it. But, lord did he hate the beginning of the overnight rotations, trying to adjust his sleep schedule while not giving himself heart palpitations from too much Red Bull was a very delicate tango. He wasn’t tired now, but he knew he needed to sleep, because he had a 12 hour shift to deal with, and when 2:00am came around and he had drunk college girls clobbering each other because of endless margaritas, he needed to be … not drooling and sleeping standing up.

It was now 4pm, and he hadn’t slept yet. He had to be up at like 10:30pm. He just. Needed. To fall. Asleep. He blinked up at the ceiling and thought about counting all the popcorn dots. He got to 513. And was still not asleep. 

He punched his pillow into a slightly different shape, pulled the blankets over his and tried again… and 47 sheep later he admitted defeat and went downstairs. He would put on C-SPAN and be out in no time. 

Just as he was settling in, the monotone voice of some city council person talking about sewer grate replacement possibly starting to settle over him, Stiles’ car pulled into the driveway. He barely heard the key turn in the door, and heard a muffled “Shhh  _ shhhh  _ noo… yes, I love you too and will give you many scratches - no barki -  _ hushhh.  _ Shhh.  _ Shh _ . Daddy is sleeping so we have to be  _ quiet _ .” He heard soft  _ tnk _ of her kitten heels (“The are sensible, and a little sexy. Eh.  _ Ehhh? _ ” She elbowed Derek while modeling them after coming home from her ‘promotion celebration’ shopping spree.) hitting the floor by the door. Everything she was doing was quiet, he’s pretty sure she was actually tiptoeing down the hallway.

Derek made her jump a little bit as she walked into the living room. “ _ Hey _ ! You are supposed to be sleeping mister. You need to wide awake and ready for action when all those drunk co-eds try to handle your nightstick.” She flopped down on top of him, her hands making their way under his shirt. “Hiii. You’re warm and toasty.” 

Kissed her forehead, since that was the only thing he could reach without choking a little on her hair, mumbling, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Mmm.” She settled her body into a more comfortable position, “Well, I am  _ beat _ . Wanna feel me up a little bit, get an awkwardly angled, sort of dry, hand job and see if that puts you to sleep?”

She pinched her side, as she huffed out a small laugh and wiggled to get away. “As lovely as that sounds,” he emphasized the feeling up part by grabbing her ass, “This is actually perfect.”

“Ahh yes, so my presence is so boring it just puts you to sleep, I get it.” She may have bit him a little through his t-shirt. 

“Stiles, shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes sir, officer, sir.”

\--

Stiles leaned down, juggling the plate with the pizza on it away from Miko’s mouth and grabbed the toy that had fallen on the ground. She did a perfunctory glance at it, making sure there weren't any large clods of dog hair stuck to it and shook it off a little just in case. She then resituated herself on the couch waggling the toy in Derek’s lap, cooing at the baby there, kicking her little feet in air and giggling.

“Who has you? Does uncle Dede have you? Yes, yes he does.” Stiles and the baby both somehow decided it was the perfect time to blow raspberries.

“Do you have to call me  _ Dede _ ?”

Stiles put her hand against his face, looking down at the baby, “You just ignore him. He’s just cranky because he missed his nap.”

Derek licked her hand. “Ugh. Look at him Aggie, Uncle Dede is just proving how  _ gross _ boys are. Yucky.” Stiles made her facial expressions big and inflected her voice to get more giggles from the baby. She wiped her hand down Derek’s shirt, grinning as she leaned forward, careful not to sandwich the baby, to give Derek a quick kiss. The baby took the opportunity to pull at her shirt.

“That’s right, you get her good Aggie.” Derek smiled as he wiggled his fingers against the baby’s belly, causing her to let go of the shirt as well as let go of more giggles. “That’s for letting her flash the good stuff though.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Stiles.

“ _ Gross _ ! Aggie! Boys are gross!”

Later, after the baby had giggled herself into oblivion, eaten enough to confuse Derek and then pooped enough to make Stiles laugh for way too long, Stiles and Derek were on a mission to gather all of her stuff that had been scattered throughout their home before it was time for her to go home.

Stiles was shaking the last of the water out of an empty bottle before she packed it away in the bag, looking at Derek who was on his stomach, trying to get an errant sock that somehow made it under the couch. “You know… I don’t think I can do this.”

Derek quickly looked up, his heart stuttering a little, “Do  _ what _ ?”

“This…” she waved her hands around at the bag of baby stuff. She looked down at the bag, playing with the zipper a little bit. “...have babies. Do the whole mom thing. I don’t… I love Aggie and all, but I don’t see myself ever  _ wanting _ that.”

“...oh…” Derek’s heart slowly stopped beating against his rib cage like it was trying to escape.

Without looking up she took a shaky breath, not quite sure she was ready for his response. There were a lot of erratic heart beats in the room right now. “Is that… if… if we are... “ She took another calming breath. “It’s only ever us, is that… are you okay with that?”

Derek looked at her from his position down on the floor, with the escaped sock successfully wrangled in. “Wha - of course. If it’s just you and I until we are senile and wearing each other’s underwear on accident, I will have lived a life I am happy with.”

“Even if I wear those granny style undies that go up to my armpits?”

“Even then… Afraid you’re stuck with me, Stilinski.”

“You’re sure?”

“Let’s leave the college fund worries to someone else. We can take weird month long vacations to some deserted Swiss cabin and only wear your giant granny panties.”

\--

**Stiles** : Empty your social calendar tonight big guy. In dire need of you being the big spoon for high quality, extended cuddles. Today has sucked. Bring kleenex, I’m probably going to cry a lot.  
**Stiles** : Also, I love your face pookie bear.  
**Stiles** : And your butt.   
**Pookie Bear** : Always ready to be the big spoon. Need anything else?  
**Stiles** : Island vacation to an Italian nude beach so I can make all the grandmas jealous that I get to grab your cute little tooshie?   
**Pookie Bear** : I’ll see what I can do. 

Stiles looked like she would have actually crawled from the car if she could have without ruining her stockings. She was dragging her coat and her bag behind her, a dull plunk on each step as she made the way to the front door, where Derek met her. She was already sniffling a little, as she stole a Kleenex from the offered box and wiped her nose before dropping everything that was in her arms with a thunk and falling into Derek. “People… people are horrible to each other. For no reason. Just…” She hiccuped around the words, tears starting to fall. Derek held her close, kissing her temple.

“C’mon.” He nudged her towards the stairs, a gentle guiding hand on her back as she trudged up the stairs. She guided her to the bed. “Sit.”

She continued to sniffle as Derek took care in taking off her shoes, sliding the stockings off her feet. He stood, with her knees bracketed in between his and leaned over her, planting kick kisses on each cheek, murmurs of love as he undid the closure on her skirt. She braced herself with arms around his waist, lifting her hips off the bed as he directed her. He unbuttoned her blouse, discarding it amongst the other items in a small pile on the floor. Her back was curved as she curled in on herself, letting more tears fall. Derek grabbed her chin, smoothing away the tears with his thumbs. She was left in a light cami and some boy shirts. Derek helped her slide into one of his well loved and stinky to anyone but her hoodies and made his way to a lying position, pulling her close. She rested her head under his chin, and he cocooned her with this limbs as best he could, dragging her favorite blanket over them. 

“D’you want to talk about it?” She shook her head no, and blew her nose into one of the kleenexes she grabbed from the box that got a little squished between them. 

“This is enough.” He ran his hands up and down her back, wiped away more tears, pressed his thumbs into pressure points on her back where he could feel tight knots. She mumbled it into his chest as her tears slowed, “Love you for infinity.”

“For infinity.”

\--

Stiles put on a fancy dress with highly uncomfortable Spanx that were riding up in weird places for this? To see this new hot shot (and hot) detective grope her man during the Holiday Ball. And Derek didn’t even look uncomfortable, just eating it all up like it was those tiny cocktail weenies on a stick that he loved. (“...heh...you like to cram lots of tiny weenies in your mouth. Dirty.” “Stiles, shut up.” “...heh..”) She aggressively chewed on her straw on the way to the bar, where she ordered another drink. Then there was aggressive slurping with the straw as she stared holes through the back of this lady who apparently had the  _ audacity _ . She got really excited for a second when she thought the lady actually was bursting into flame, but it was just the smoke machine behind them on the dance floor that kicked in. “Yeah, you’re  _ lucky _ I don’t have witching skills. D’make an  _ excellent _ witch…”

Stiles made her way over to the wall that featured all the silent auction items. They were raising money for Robbins’ wife, who had been battling cancer for the last six months. It pulled at certain heart strings inside Stiles, and she placed bids on a few items. As she was stirring the ice in her drink with her straw, pondering placing a bid on a couples’ weekend in Austin, Derek snuck up behind her. He placed a quick kiss on her shoulder, “Hey baby, anything good?”

She ‘hmmmed’ as she moved to the next table, looking over the items up for bid there. She put a bid down on a signed baseball that her dad would love but would never spoil himself with. Derek hummed, his lips still near her shoulder, “He’ll like that; did you see the trip to Austin? I was going to put a bid on that, if you don’t. We’d have a blast there, huh?”

Stiles shrugged away from him, placing her empty cup on a passing tray full of other empty glasses. 

“Is everything… are you okay?”

She glowered at him. She knew she was being ridiculous, but jealousy wasn’t something she was used to and she wasn’t quite sure how to verbalize it. 

“I’m  _ fine _ . I think I had a bad shrimp cocktail or something.”

“...oh. Uh. Do you want to head out? I can get our coats?” He had a motion like he would go grab them. “We can stop by Walgreens and get some Sprite and saltines too.”

“Do  _ you _ want to leave? I see your fan club is in full force.”

Derek just stared at her, a confused look on his face. He scrunched up his face, confused, “Fan cl- what are you talking about?”

She talked low, as to not make a scene, “I’m surprised I can’t smell her from here, looked like she was wetting herself just being near you.”

“I…  _ what _ ? Are you… how much have you had to  _ drink _ ? What are you even talking about?”

Stiles continued to glower, and not answering any of his questions, she crossed her arms over her chest, “I want to go home.”

“Okay. Okay. Of course. I’ll grab our jackets. I’ll tell you da-”

“Whatever. I’ll meet you at the car.”

Derek looked so confused and so hurt, that Stiles felt a little bad for being so immature. She made her way out of the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as she left, waving quickly without stopping to those that tried to get her attention. She made it out to the car, leaning against the passenger door. She toed off her ridiculous heels and was working on getting her thigh high stockings off when Derek walked up to the car. Stiles could feel her chest at the look on his face.

“...okay. Do you need anything? I don’t think we have any Pepto or anything at home. We could stop…”

“I  _ said _ I was  _ fine _ . Can we just go home?” She had gotten into the passenger seat throwing her shoes down by her feet, and rolling up her stockings in her hand. Derek’s face settled into something much less concerned, and a little more pissed.

They drove home in silence. Derek tried to rest his hand on her knee, and she pushed it away, staring out the window as she heard him clench the steering him so hard she heard the leather crinkle.

As he parked in the driveway, she was out of the car before it even finished rolling to a stop. She then had to wait at the door, because Derek was the only one that brought keys with him. He took his time gathering their jackets from the backseat, along with the present he had gotten from his Secret Santa. (“Oh my god, it’s Mikolaj!” It was a hand painted picture of their dog, Miko, dressed up like a police officer that made Stiles laugh so hard that she cried happy tears.) Derek made his way up the steps, looking at Stiles.

“Look, I don’t know if I missed something or… if you really did eat bad shrimp, but can you just… can you talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong? So I… so we can fix it?” He had unlocked the door, and had to block Miko from escaping as Stiles just pushed her way inside. As she walked away, Derek mumbled, “...or not.”

Derek took his time hanging up both of their jackets, toeing his shoes off, loosening his tie. He heard things moving around with more force than needed in their bedroom and then heard the bathroom door shut with so much force the dog jumped a little. Derek made his way to their bedroom, and saw her shoes and stockings thrown in the corner. He took his tie off, throwing it in the drawer with the others. The cufflinks were put away with care. He shucked off his jacket and was unbuttoning his shirt when Stiles came back in their room. Her makeup was gone, her updo brushed out and put in a messy bun and she had her glasses on. She had a little speck of toothpaste on the side of her lip.

She took a deep breath, shuddering as she tried not to cry the angry tears that she had been holding on to. Derek stopped what he was doing, and held her eye contact.

“You talked to her and touched her and laughed with her like you… like she meant something to you and I don’t know how to process that because people don’t … they don’t ever stay when there are people like her and I don’t know what to do to be like her. She didn’t trip once in her heels tonight. Not  _ once _ !” She’s got tears in her eyes, but none have fallen. “And if you have people like that all over you all the time, I’m scared that someone is going to do it enough to take you away from me… and I don’t know what I would do if that happened because you are my person. And I am so mad at … not you, but her… but you… and I am so mad and I don’t know  _ why _ and I can’t make any coherent thoughts because this dress is so fucking uncomfortable and these stupid Spanx are cutting off my circulation and I can’t get them off because the zipper is stuck…” Derek went from furious to holding back laughter in about three seconds. “...and you are my person, so you are the only one with magic hands that can get this stupid thing unstuck.”

Stiles was standing there, tears falling down her cheeks now. Derek allowed her to catch her breath before he sat down on the bed, pulling her towards him. “...baby… you are my one and only. No one is ever going to … take your place. No matter how graceful they are in heels. I love  _ you _ . Okay? No one else. No one else makes me feel the way you make me feel. No one else loves me the way you love me. No one else will ever have my heart.” Stiles sniffled. He put his hands on her hips, turning around to face away from him. “You are the most beautiful person in any room.” He worked the zipper away from the small string it seemed to have been caught on, pulling down. He kissed the red area it must have rubbed against as Stiles tried to get it on her own. He tugged at the material of the dress and it pooled at her feet. He turned her back around, “Okay? You and me. Until the end.” He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, pulling her in for a kiss. “I love you.”

She closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath in, holding it for a beat and blowing it out again. “...I love you too. M’sorry that I ruined our night…”

“Night ruined? I got to take a beautiful girl home and she’s nearly  _ naked _ in my room right now, I mean… It can’t call that ruined.”

Stiles hiccuped as she swatted at his shoulder. “I need to get these Spanx off, and then we are burning them.” Stiles flailed a little trying to pull them down, with Derek’s hands bracing her hips when she wobbled a little. As they finally hit the floor, Stiles kicked them in the direction hallway, “Maybe Miko will pee on them and I won’t feel so bad about throwing them away…”

She shuffled closer, running along the hem of Derek’s open shirt. She started tugging at it, “Off please.” Her voice was still rough from the tears. As Derek was maneuvering his way out his shirt, her fingers started pulling at his belt. “These too, mmm.”

Derek got down to his boxers (“It’s a holiday party, so everything has to be holiday themed  _ Derek _ .”) and pulled her down to their bed as they arranged themselves under the covers. She cuddled close, fingers running through his hair. He worked his hand behind her to unclasp her bra, because no matter where this went - she hated sleeping in her bra. She flung it behind her and moved in to kiss him, “Still sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

\--

Derek usually had to dedicate the last hour of his shift to catch up on paperwork, reports, edits, and all that fun stuff. Thankfully, it was quiet enough that he could listen to some relaxing music on his headphones. As he was just wrapping up one file, a text came in from Stiles.

**Stiles** : Uhhh oh. I did a bad thing.

There was a picture of a tipped over cup, with approximately 16 drops of juice on the counter in their kitchen.

**Pookie Bear** : Are we out of paper towels? We are gonna get ants.

Another came in, a shot of Stiles thighs down, her feet in flip flops and their dog a few paces ahead of her.

**Stiles** : No leash! I am breaking the law!  
**Pookie Bear** : I really hope you’re wearing pants this time. There are nudity laws on the books.

One last picture came in, of Stiles in the middle of an empty intersection, the lights at the crosswalk clearly signalling no walking. She was giving the peace sign while sipping one of her ridiculous Starbucks drinks.

**Stiles** : You better start listening to Judas Priest now baby, cause I’m breakin’ the law.  
**Pookie Bear** : Do I really want to know?

The next picture that came through suddenly raised Derek’s heartbeat and he was probably blushing. Thank god the office was sort of empty. He hid his phone screen a bit, just in case. It was their bed, rumpled sheets unfocused in the back (neither of them ever made the bed, whatever they were adults and could do what they wanted) and with Stiles freckled fingers holding a pair of handcuffs.

**Stiles** : I’ve been bad and need to be punished. Should I call the  _ police _ ?  
**Stiles** : (Spoiler alert babe: you’re the police and I would like you to punish me.)  
**Stiles** : Oh, and here’s an outtake because I am silly.

The next picture was a blurry picture of Stiles' face, mid laugh as she tried to make the handcuffs look like glasses.

**Stiles** : I wonder if I could see crime better looking through these?  
**Pookie Bear** : You… are ridiculous.   
**Stiles** : Guilty as charged. Ooh. More punishment. R - a - w - r.  
**Pookie Bear** : I’ll be home in 37 minutes. Prepare yourself as much as you see fit, because I am coming for you.

Derek wasn’t even sure how she got the next picture taken (“I can do things with my feet that most people can’t do. I am ambidextrous… and ami...feet...trous. I could make you breakfast with my feet.” “...please, don’t ever do that.”) but it was her hands, secured to the headboard, the glint of the handcuffs glinting in the sun.

**Pookie Bear** : ...make that 17 minutes, baby I love you.

The next picture was an oddly angled picture that contained mostly her big toe and part of her leg and her out of control hair covering her face, which looked like she was sticking out her tongue. 

Derek is really hoping he didn’t break any serious laws driving home or run over any grandmas on their daily walk, but if he didn’t get home  _ now _ , he might have an aneurysm. He was hoping the clothes came off in the house, because by the time he got to their bedroom he was  _ nekkid _ . 

“Are you… trying… to kill me?”

Stiles grinned at him, stretching to poke her toe against his naked thigh. “No, sir. I am just here for my punishment.” She clanked the metal of the cuffs against the headboard, “Did the crime, now I gotta do my time.” She attempted to make her eyebrows move like Derek’s, but it didn’t quite have the same effect.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He set the palms of his hands against each of her ankles and slid his hands up, settling on his knees between her spread legs. He ran his knuckles across her ribs, a small smile as she mumbled, “No… tickles…” She attempted to pull him closer by closing her legs around him. He went with the motions and leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of her. He ghosted kisses across her shoulders, her neck, behind her ear, and finally her lips. He pulled back, leaving just a hair of space between them as she smiled and whispered, “Welcome  _ home _ baby, let’s have some fun.”

\--

As Stiles grabbed a cookie sheet precariously stacked in the cupboard, she cringed when, what felt like, every other pot and pan she had owned since undergrad clattered to the ground. She had already tripped over the dog and spilled flour all over herself and half the kitchen. Then she burned the first batch of cookies while she was trying to clean up the mess. She just really, really hated this tiny, cramped kitchen. She flopped down onto the counter, uncleaned flour poofing up around her. “...do you have any building skills running through your DNA?”

Derek leaned against the counter next to her, running his fingers across the skin exposed on her back as flour settled around the both. “I mean, I can whittle.” She hrmphed, a small cloud of flour escaping under her arms. “Probably could build a dog house if I really put my mind to it.”

She stood up, flour all over the front of her shirt and her face, and settled against Derek’s chest, her words muffled a little against his shirt. “If I buy you a construction belt and a hammer, can you build  _ me _ a house? With a very large kitchen? And a walk-in closet. Oh. And an office. And a movie room. And obviously a room for all your work out machines. And a spare room or two for your nieces and nephews. Oh. And a laundry chute - I’ve always wanted one of those.” She ended the ramble looking up at Derek, with half hopeful eyes and a playful grin. “I mean, if you can’t do that, we can just role play hot construction worker and … some soccer mom that got lost in the new development that says stuff like ‘Nail me, baby!’”

Sometimes Derek got a little confused at how fast Stiles’ brain worked, and bounced from one subject to another. By now, the dog was licking flour off their toes and Stiles rested her chin against Derek’s sternum, looking up at him. Her hands make their way under his shirt, drawing random patterns against his sleep warm skin. 

“I mean, I can’t build you a house, but… should we  _ buy _ a house?”

“Like, together?”

“I don’t know, mortgages are pretty sexy.”

“But like, are we  _ that _ serious?” Derek rolled his eyes at her laughter, pushing her shoulder.

“Eh, I like you enough to go into ridiculous debt for the next 30 years.”

“...that’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me. Nail me, baby!” 

\--

Stiles was out of town, at a conference where she was presenting her most recent research. Derek was so proud, but a little bummed that he wasn’t able to swing the time off to go with her. 

**Stiles** : I want a human size version of this sandwich, and I want to sleep in it.

It was a picture of a gooey, cheesy mess held in front of Stiles’ face, a huge smile on her face, marinara smeared across her cheek. Derek replied with his peanut butter and jelly sandwich he had made himself for lunch.  Derek sent her a picture of Miko laying down on one of her sweaters, and the another with him using another as a pillow. 

**Stiles** : Aww. My boys miss me so much.

She attached a video clip of her cooing Miko’s name, that she demanded Derek play for the dog. Half an hour after their conversation ended and when Derek swore Stiles was supposed to be networking, another video came in just for him, cooing and all. “Smooches baby, I miss you so much! Three more sleeps and I will be home.”

Stiles had the last two days in town to be a true tourist, and Derek’s phone became a virtual scrapbook of her activities. An extraordinarily large amount of food pictures came in; Derek never understood how she could eat so much - he was constantly jealous of her metabolism and her sheer force of will to eat all that food. Pictures of her toes in the sand. Trying on clothes from boutiques, demanding to know which ones he liked best (all of them). A couple of bags she had captioned with “A surprise for yoooou. Xoxo”. A baseball game. And so many pictures of her smiling face, hair wild in the wind as she captured small moments in time.

Stiles’ flight came in right in the middle of Derek's work day, so there wasn’t any logistical way for him to pick her up, bring her home and show her exactly how much he missed her. She got home, scrubbed the smell of the plane ride off in the shower, cuddled Miko a ridiculous amount, started to unpack, getting her laundry done and then fell asleep surrounded by half folded clean laundry (and her dog). She woke with a start when Miko did his one loud ‘someone’s at the door but I doubt it’s a serial killer because it smells like dad’ bark six inches from her ear. “Jes - Miko!  _ Oww _ .” Miko was already down the stairs, if Derek’s reaction was anything to go by, “Yes, hi Miko. Down.  _ Down _ . Jesus… I see you, I am petting you… sit  _ down _ .” (Miko was kind of in love with Derek.)

She flopped out of bed, her mind a little fuzzy, making her way down the stairs. She met him at the bottom of the stairs, their height matched as she leaned into him, wrapping her fingers tight around his upper arms. She kissed him quick, then rested her head in the crook of his neck. “ _ Hiiii _ . I missed you and your manly musk. M’tired. Took a nap.”

“My musk is pretty irresistible.” He tugs lightly on the strings of the hoodie she is wearing that looks suspiciously like the one he wore on his run yesterday morning. “Missed you so much.”

She hiked her legs up around his waist, resting her body weight against him, mumbling into his neck, “Take me to bed. But like, for sleeps. We can ravish each other after approximately two hours of power napping. Also. Got you presents.”

“You left half folded laundry on my side of the bed didn’t you?” He made his way up the stairs, laughing as she groaned into his neck. 

“I plead the fifth.”

\--

He knew anything over the top would just piss her off, but he was tempted to do it skywriting just to see her face. He also knew that if he attempted to plot anything, two things would happen: one, she would find out because she’s that good or two, he would just break and tell her because he was so excited. 

So, he just waited for the moment to feel right. 

They were laying in bed, her body tucked under his arm. She was drawing patterns in his chest hair, hiding a yawn in his side. He was running fingers up and down her arm. Sun was filtering in, higher in the sky than their normal “get up and go”, but it was Saturday, and a rare Saturday with no plans laid out in front of them.

“M’not moving until the sun sets...” She glommed onto him a little closer, throwing a leg over his. He used his free hand, sliding it behind her knee to dislodge it from his kidney, pulling her a little closer. “D’you think we can train Miko to make grilled cheese sandwiches in the next hour?”

Miko perked up at the end of the bed, and Derek had no idea if it was because of his name or the word cheese. He reached behind him, grabbing at the drawer of his nightstand, doing his best not dislodge either of them from their current position. “We could order brunch from Stella’s?” He set down a small box on his chest, in her line of vision, if she would open her eyes. He planted a small kiss on top of her head, “They have s’mores french toast.”

“Mmm. Sounds sticky. That and two sunny side up eggs with hashbrowns… oh. Fruit plate too.” She squinted one eye open, looking up at the underside of Derek’s chin, “Sticky, bloated brunch sex sounds exac - Derek, what… what is that?”

She scrambled up into a sitting position, grabbing at the small box that sat open against Derek’s chest. Derek pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“It’s a ring.”

“Well, no shit. But, it’s a  _ ring _ .”

“Yep.” The ‘p’ made a loud pop.

“Who is this for?”

“...Miko, obviously.”

“Shut  _ up _ . Is this what… a  _ ring _ ?”

“Are you confused or repulsed or still just half asleep?”

“Derek. It’s a ring in a sexy velvet box and it’s from  _ you _ . Wait, right?”

“... _ yes _ it’s from me, dumbass.” Stiles blindly flailed and slapped him lightly on the chest. “Could you connect the dots a little faster please? I’m trying to propose and your confusion is endearing, but it’s killing the mood.”

Stiles just stared down at the burgundy box, a slim silver band with three small rubies in a row staring back at her. “...holy shit.” She looked at the ring, then back at Derek’s face several times before Derek pushed her chin up with his knuckles, fanning his hand out to hold it in place.

“You and me, officially forever, what’d’ya say?”

“...Derek Hale, I am going to cry all over you and then you are ordering me that sticky s’mores french toast and then you are providing me at least two orgasms before they deliver the food and then we are going to eat so much and get fat because I can let myself go now because we are engaged and then I’m giving you your orgasms.” Stiles climbed into his lap, holding the box to her chest. He took the ring out of the box, raised his eyebrows and pulled her hand away from her chest. He slipped the ring onto her finger, kissing the palm before intertwining their fingers.

“I ordered the food already, if you want to get to the crying and orgasms. I am fine with whatever order you want them in.”


End file.
